"Shut up, Butch'," exclaimed Harry, "until we are somewhere, where none can hear a word you are saying."
"Ye're jist right. I will."
When Arnold spoke last, I noticed that his strong fingers had grasped the arm of his companion, tightly. Moreover, I was enabled to remark that the face of the latter had more of its old vitality. This was, however, at present, by no means of an alluringly agreeable character. His eyes seemed to have the very devil in them. When he replied to Harry, he strode rapidly up the street. Arnold and myself followed him, until we had passed the last house or log shanty in it, and had reached a clear and open spot. Here I came to a dead halt.
"And now, man, what is it you have to tell me?"
"Du yer know the skunk the folks in Washington sent to Pyramid Lake, last fall, as [3]Injun agint?"
"Yes!"
"What d'yer think he's a' goin' tu du with the cuss'd red devils we cotched up thar," as he said this, he gave a jerk with his thumb in the direction leading to it, "at Willier Crik?"
"What can he do with them?"
"He's a' goin' to rin 'em off to-morrer, on to the Resarvation. So we can't du nothing with them," Hasbrouck replied savagely.